No complaining allowed!

I got up Saturday morning and made breakfast for Nate & the Pastor. Biscuits and bacon. Hey - it's what I had! First, Nathan got up and didn't want to eat the thick, hickory-smoked bacon because it makes him too thirsty. OK, then just a biscuit for you.

Then, the Pastor got up and complained there was no gravy. Has there ever been gravy? No! I am gravy impaired! I did not inherit the gravy making gene.

So when I made the Pastor's plate, this is what he got. Angry biscuit.

And I am never getting up and making breakfast again. Next time I'll just go to Starbucks!

Good Morning Starshine!

The Pastor eating his mad biscuit. He's not a morning person.

MOB

The Pastor and I made a late-night run for the Border. No, not for me, the Pastor wanted some Taco Bell. It must be nice to be able to have several thousand calories anytime you want intead of having to feel guilty about having a bite/container of cookie dough. Must be nice to eat whatever you want and not spend minutes/hours/days/MONTHS of your life on the treadmill, but I'm not bitter.

Anyway, the Taco Bell associate had a rather large tattoo on his arm:

MOB

The Pastor asked what the tattoo meant.

"Money over bitches. Cuz when you're out on the street, you gotta keep things straight."

The Pastor's tattoo would have to say BOM. But according the the Taco Bell associate, that's ok, as long as I'm "down wit it."

Robyn's fabulous movie review and cookie dough vs. banana

For those of you who, like me, enjoyed the movie "Love Actually" because Hugh Grant dances, you will really like "Music and Lyrics."

the reasons I ate cookie dough instead of a banana:

Because the bananas which had been sitting on my counter for more than a week were black and nasty.

But but but the cookie dough which I purchased at the store the same day I bought the bananas, was perfectly fine and fresh and delicious.

I tried to stop. I tried to call a friend for accountability - someone to talk me down from the cookie dough ledge. I called Dr. Friend! Surely a doctor could tell me how unhealthy it is to eat dough, tell me about salmonella or some bad cookie realated disease, but she didn't answer, and by then I was pretty sick of eating the dough anyway.

I'm better now.

No one has to die.

The PMS is over.

I probably won't cry today.

The Pastor was a very smart husband about the whole thing. He fled the house. Seeking asylum, he went to Target to purchase a blender (not for Mother's Day, we needed a blender). On the way home, he had the wisdom to stop at the $7 per scoop ice cream store to buy me a treat (with extra cookie dough).

He has even charted me on his palm pilot. For one week a month, he has an entry on his calendar that says "be especially nice to Robyn. Even nicer than normal. Be really, really nice to Robyn."

Happy Mother's Day! Lock up the jewelry and melt some cheese! Alternate title: Can-Can for Christ!

Oh, what a week.

As if it wasn't bad enough to be old and fat after my birthday, then I got sick.

But that's just me. Here's all the other fun stuff that happened!

The week started off with just a whiff of possible legal action because me and the Pastor - brace yourself - MAKE CHILDREN DO STUFF THAT ANY NORMAL CHILDREN/PEOPLE SHOULD DO. OK, I'm calm now.

Unfortunately, after this week, it's easy to not judge Alec Baldwin. No, not ok to do that to a kid, but we can relate to his frustration. Sharing custody of kids is not fun for anybody. Add some lying and manipulation and a bunch of other messed-up stuff, and it really sucks.

There was this little scenario:

child, to Pastor: Dad, I want to call my other parent and tell my other parent the day care will be closed next week.

Pastor, to child: No, it is not your responsibility to do that. That is a grown-up job. The day care will let your other parent know, and I will also send an e-mail.

So the next day child goes to school the next day and asks to use the telephone in the office to call other parent. One, to let other parent know day care is going to be closed next week, oh and by the way since I've got you on the phone, could you come up to school and see me?

Then other parent goes to the school, and child has meltdown. Child feels need to tearfully communicate to other parent how UNFAIR things are at our house. The child who got to go to Build-a-$50-freakin'-Bear four days prior. The child who is wearing on her body clothes I purchased for her on a special shopping trip. The child who would NEVER have known the glory of Starbucks if not for me. The child I made-up cosmetically for her Dansical this week (more to come on that). I could go on and on, but you get the point.

Yes, my dear, things are completely unfair. Because at our house we spend so much time being the parents who take you to the eye doctor and the ear doctor and the orthodontist and the dentist to get your glasses and take care of your ear infection and try to get you braces and see that you have healthy teeth, we tend to be a wee bit busy. By the way, we've had to take kids to all those appointmets just in the last two weeks we've had them. Not to mention all the dress rehearsals, etc. we had for the Dansical.

Then as a grand finale of the week, the children left Friday and coincidentally, magically, mysteriously one of my necklaces disappared. Am I to live in a home where I have to lock up my jewelry, just to be safe? It's bad all around. I either live in a home where your first inclination is to think a child steals, or I actually live in a home where a small child steals. Either way, it's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.

But there's a bright golden haze on the meadow! The kids performed in "Oklahoma!" the Dansical this week. At the church where they attend dance, I learned the church has a mission field - DANCE! The church performs so that secular dancers can see how dance can be performed for the glory of God! This statement was particularly interesting to me as one of the dances was a Can-Can number complete with Saloon Girls. Hey, who DOESN'T love a good Can-Can? I'm sure even God herself would appreciate that. That made me want to work on my mission. I decided my mission can be to show all the secular shoppers that shopping can be done for the glory of God - I need to look pretty for church, right?

Now on Mother's Day, after all of the unappreciated mothering I did this week, I sit here child-less as all the children are with their other parent's. You know, their NICE parents. This week was so bad, I didn't even have the energy to celebrate as I did last year - by heading with the girl's to the Mexican restaurant to celebrate "I am NACHO Mother Night," complete with a big plate of gooey cheese and tortilla chips.

Crappy Mother's Day!

field of dreams

If you build it, they will come.

And more importantly, if you whine incessantly and are demanding about your birthday, they will bring you presents, bake you cookies and take you out to eat.

I am exhausted. Am I exhausted from my party? No. Am I exhuasted from opening all my presents? No. Am I exhausted from shopping this afternoon? No. I am exhausted because after two days of eating with my "it's my birthday (or it's NEARLY my birthday) and I can eat whatever I want attitude," I am exhausted from holding my stomach in.

List of free things I received for my birthday:
-donut at Starbucks
-drink with whipped cream at Starbucks
-lunch (Thanks, Dad)
-orange hunting hat at country club
-chocolate covered strawberry
(this list does not include my presents)

I really am tired. I'm trying to type this and the Pastor keeps interrupting me. More tomorrow. I have one hour and seven minutes left of my birthday and I intend to milk it for all it's worth.

So far, so typical

May 5, 2007

Me, to Loretta: Loretta, when you wake up tomorrow morning, if the clock says before 7:00 GO BACK TO BED.

**********

May 6, 2007

6:25 a.m.

Pastor: Happy Birthday Honey (said in sweet sleepy voice)

Pastor: GIRLS, GO BACK TO BED! NO TALKING!!! (in yelling voice)

**********

6:35 a.m.

Me: Pastor, will you please go talk to the girls, they are not doing what you asked. (and unsaid, thinking in my head: I'm not dealing with this today!)

**********

Cut to me, walking out the door, going to get my free donut and drink WITH WHIPPED CREAM at Starbucks.

More later.

2 more days til my birthday

That's all.

3 more days til my birthday

The Pastor woke me up this morning, interrupting my dream.

I was dreaming I went to the bakery to pick up my birthday cake and they had made it all wrong. I was sampling the cake before I even left the bakery (not entirely unbelieveable) and discovered they had not done a good job mixing the ingredients before they baked it (gross). I complained to the owner. In my dream, the owner of the bakery was the same person who owns one of the German bakeries I frequent in real life. However, in my dream, upon my complaint, they sent out a hot Italian guy to fix my cake. This part of the dream is a bit strange to me because I can’t say that I ever recall a waking moment when I’ve found Italian guys to be especially hot, but in my dream he was. The Italian guy asked for my I.D. before he would make my cake, because, as it turned out, he intended to put my age on the cake. I told him not to do that, and the Pastor woke me up.

Why did he wake me up? So he could lament about the fact that I wasn’t getting up to make his needy self breakfast. That’s what happens when you buy 18 boxes of cereal! Go eat your Apple Jacks mister!

Sorry to be so cranky, it was just a really good dream.

********

I forgot the punch line!

The funniest part of the story, and I forgot to tell you. That’s what happens when I write late at night.

The story about the Pastor going to the mall with me was really funny because he was walking around trying to figure out how he could incorporate me as a church so when he “tithes” to me he could basically write me off (in a good way). But forget it, the moment’s over.

shop til you drop

The Pastor did his penance today.

I figure it must have been penance for some sin.

He went to the mall with me.

We were close to the mall and I needed makeup (compact broke). The Pastor suggested I show him some ideas for my birthday presentssssssssssssssss. (He is NOT going to think all those s's are funny.)

Me: walking through department store, exclaiming "Oh, I just love "

Pastor: pulling out cell phone, cutting me off, "I have to call blah blah blah."

Me: "Oh, I just love "

Pastor: cutting me off again, "blah blah blah."

Pastor, stopping: "OH, I see what you're doing. You are giving me the hints."

Me: "Well, I'm trying to."

******

Me: in department store, pointing at vintage-looking Rice Krispie dishes
"Oh, I really like these!"

Pastor: "I am NOT buying you those."

******

Me: in Coach store
"I like this bag, but I think it may look too hoochie."
"I like this bag, but it has brown on it. I don't care for brown."

(I really don't care for ANYTHING brown. I'm like an autistic child that way.)

******

He has now figured out to not give me presents early. I don't like it, much like the color brown. Plus now he has figured out by not giving me the presents he can hold them over my head much like a parent threatening a child with a Santa-no-show around Christmas.

So I'm going to be a very good girl for the next few days.

Prom: 2007

Me & the Pastor. My hair looked so good - unfortuntely, about six hours before this pic was taken. I have chicken cutlets. Not the worst chicken cutlets you've ever seen. You only know what that means if you've been watching "What Not to Wear" for a while.

Also, I touched that Indian. Most of you probably won't know what that means either.

Even if none of this caption makes sense to you, it's still a lovely picture. Enjoy!

I made a cake.

For Easter dinner. A Weight Watcher friendly cake, which explains why it wasn't very good. But it looked pretty.

very bad news

The new donuts at Starbucks - the Top Pot donuts I've been eating every morning for breakfast - are 12 points on Weight Watchers.

To put that in perspective, I only get 20 points a day!

This makes me very unhappy.

"When I saw those midgets last night, it made me miss home."

perhaps the strangest quote ever from the Pastor

I don't think he'll be incorporating that story into a sermon.

what people do while in Tulsa

Dr. Friend sent me this e-mail a long time ago, so I'm finally answering it on my blog. Something to do in Tulsa while I'm watching cable!

1. What time did you get up this morning? 6:20 alarm when off, officially got out of bed closer to 6:40. The Pastor loves that about me. He loves it when I set the alarm super early and then don't jump out of bed right away. Laying in bed is one of my spiritual gifts.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Why can't I have both?

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Blades of Glory (On DVD, Friends).

4. What is your favorite TV show? The Office. Grey's Anatomy is starting to lose me (penis fish, Meredith drowning).

5. What did you have for breakfast? 1/2 chocolate donut, 1/2 glazed donut, a tall, non-fat, sugar-free vanilla caramel machiato, and water. Nate had the other donut halves.

6. What is your middle name? Renee. It was supposed to have an accent, but they forgot to type it on my birth certificate, so when Mom got my birth cert in the mail, it was too much trouble to do anything about it. All my life, I've been trying to fill the void of not having that accent mark.

7. What is your favorite cuisine? Mexican - duh!

8. What foods do you dislike? Meat, chicken, pork, ONIONS, eggs, ONIONS, turkey, anything with a carcass, spaghetti, fish sticks, hamburger helper, milk. That's enough.

9. Your favorite potato chip? Tortilla chips and 100 calorie packs of Pringles.

10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Charlie Hall, Lincoln Brewster and I just downloaded a Stray Cats song from I Tunes - "I Won't Stand in Your Way" - I had the tape when I was in junior high.

11. What kind of car do you drive? I'm supposed to drive the fuel-efficient Honda, or the kid-efficient van.

12. Favorite sandwich? Grilled Cheese.

13. What characteristics do you despise? Bad manners. People who won't shut up. People who violate my personal space. Rude people. Whatever characteristics usually found in some ex-spouses and sometimes step-children.

14. What are your favorite clothes? New ones.

15. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would/or wouldn't you go? Beach. I'd talk about how I wanted to go to Las Vegas and it made the Pastor all mad, but nevermind.

16. Favorite brand of clothing? I'm fickle.

17. Where would you want to retire? Uhhh, I'm pretty much retired.

18. Favorite time of day? Well, it's not early in the morning, and it's not late at night, I'm usually pleasant for about 20 minutes after I get my Starbucks.

19. Where were you born? In a hospital.

20. What is your favorite sport to watch? N/A.

21. Who do you think will not send this back? I'm not sending this out. Ask the Pastor how dilligent I am with e-mailing. Not very.

22. Person you expect to send it back first? I'm not sending this to anyone, but if you want to send it back, fine. I'm in TULSA for crying out loud, I'll read anything.

23. Pepsi or Coke? Whatever's diet, with a twist of lime.

24. Beavers or ducks? No thanks, more like monkeys or frogs.

25. Are you a morning person or a night owl? See above.

26. Pedicure or manicure? Again, I'm not understanding why I couldn't have both. And a cup of Starbucks and a magazine while I sit in the pedi massage chair.

27. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with everyone? I'm ovulating today. I managed to not use any of my Weight Watchers free points this week until today.

28. What did you want to be when you were little? A ballerina, an actress, a librarian, oh and I'm pretty sure I must have wanted to be a Pastor's wife.

29. What is your best childhood memory? Here's a few - Christmas Eve movies with Dad. Going out to breakfast. Vacation at Yellowstone.

30. Piercing? Ears, belly.

31. Ever been to Africa ? No. But maybe I'll go with my same-birthday friend Michael.

32. Ever been toilet papering? Yes. And I may go again if I run out of things to do in Tulsa. Wait, there's a mall across the street. Nevermind. Coincidentally, the only house I remember TP'ing was our Pastor's house. Hmmmm.

33. Been in a car accident? Yes.

34. Favorite day of the week? Oh, they are all about the same. I especially like every other Friday.

35. Favorite restaurant? On The Border, Ted's, Cheever's, Starbucks, Pei Wei, Moe's, PF Changs, Musashi's Japanese, Taco Bueno. I used to love Big Bowl, but I think they are all gone now.

36. Favorite flower? Gerbera daisies.

37. Favorite ice cream? Sweet Cream from Cold Stone Creamery with about 82 things mixed in - including caramel, cookie dough, graham crackers and pecans.

38. Favorite fast food restaurant? Taco Bueno. The Pastor and I ate at Pei Wei every single day the first week it opened.

39. How many times did you fail the driver's test? None. I'm an excellent driver, except in the driveway.

40. From whom did you get your last e-mail? I don't know. C'mon, I got this thing probably two months ago and I'm just now answering it, do you really think I have any who JUST sent me an e-mail?

41. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? I wouldn't max it out. The Pastor and I have certain financial goals. Besides, Discover Card calls him when I take it out of my wallet. I'm sure we'd never get that far.

42. Bedtime? Whatever time it is when I go to sleep. Then again when the night-owl Pastor wakes me up when he decides to go to bed - here lately around 4 a.m.

43. Who are you most curious about their responses to this? Oh I'm pretty bored. I don't care.

44. Last person/s you went to dinner with? The Pastor, Nate and I just ate at Ted's.

45. What are you listening to right now? "How It's Made" on the Discovery Channel. Hotel room cable!

46. What is your favorite color? Pink. Nate said my answer would be pink or diamond. I didn't know diamond was a color, but he is gifted and talented so we'll take his word on it.

47. How many tattoos do you have? 0.

48. How many are you sending this email to? None! How many times does this thing ask this?

49. What time did you finish this e-mail? 5:34 p.m. CST

50. Favorite magazine? Vogue, People, In Style, Us Weekly. And did you know you can read magazines FOR FREE AT THE LIBRARY?

go fish

In case you watched Grey's Anatomy tonight, apparently the penis fish does exist. Google it. And I don't care if it only happens in places like the Amazon - I will now use this as my reason to never, ever swim in a lake again. I've been looking for a good reason. The Pastor has not found any of the other excuses I've used to be credible.

I have a friend who is doctor. We'll call her Dr. Friend.

This week, I decided I was about 50/50 on whether or not it would be a cool job to be a doctor, the 50/50 being based on exactly two stories told to me by Dr. Friend. One, a patient threw up on Dr. Friend's shoes. Now, as exciting as it would be to have a legitimate reason to go shoe shopping, someone barfs on my shoes and I'd be looking for a new job. I would even have issues with my own flesh and blood barfing on my footwear so thank goodness Nate wasn't much of a thrower-upper when he was a wee one.

But then I decided it might be a cool job to be a doctor when Dr. Friend relayed the story about getting to ask a female patient why her testicles were missing, but her penis was not. Maybe a fish was somehow involved?

I almost wish I hadn't seen that on Grey's Anatomy tonight. No telling what I'll dream about now - certainly not Dr. McDreamy.

I'm on a roll this morning

My older step-daughter gave me a present. She made it at church last night.

It is perhaps the only present she has ever given me.

And it's made out of toilet paper.

Oh, the irony.

in case you were wondering how I fill the hours of the day

PROM IS HERE!

The Pastor and I get to go as grown-up, chaperone-type people. I talked to Nate the other day about possibly going with us, and he said no thank you, why would I want to go to something where people kiss and dance all night?

I laughed because this is a Nazarene event, and neither will happen.

Anyway, I was delighted when the Pastor asked me to be his date last week, in part because I wasn't sure he still liked me, and finding the right dress (even though I probably already have it in one of my closets) gave me something to do this week.

Events like this can be tricky. The last formal event we went to, I felt like I was too dressed up. I liked what I wore to last year's prom - simple, cotton white dress. But can I outfit repeat? Absolutely not. I settled on a simple, blue cotton dress. I settled on it, but once the Pastor looks up the credit card statement he may have other opinions.

And I have metallic eyeshadow - I know how old I am, but the What Not to Wear makeup lady said metallic is in, so that makes it ok - right? I promise I'll go easy on it.

rats, snakes and swans

We are having family portraits made in about a week. Today, I went to J Crew and chose a lovely skirt and tank to wear. After I went to the mall, the Pastor asked me to meet him at his favorite store - Goodwill. I obliged and happily shopped along with him. As we were at the counter checking out, another shopper came up and reported a giant rat sighting. The worst part about this was that the clerk was not at all alarmed. Apparently, the rat is a regular. I can assure you there were no rat sightings at J Crew. Rats don't like the preppy look.

At approximately 1:39 a.m. CST the Pastor completed his important scholarly work. This was no doubt made possible by the fact that I made no demands on him for our anniversary, which was coincidentally the day of his deadline.

In case you were wondering what I got and didn't get for our anniversary -

my anniversary night dream
Sometime between when I went to bed last night while the Pastor was still working on his important scholarly stuff and 1:39 a.m., I had a snake nightmare. It was one snake with a giant eye. The first part of the dream, the snake slithered out and I tried to kill it. The second part, the snake was in bed with Nate, and me being a good mommy, I rolled him off the bed and tried to kill it. The third part of the dream, I tried to kill the snake and I somehow knew to try to strike the snake with my knife as close to the top of the head as I could - because if I went for the tail it could still strike me. So, in my dream I had common sense. At the end of the dream the snake struck me and that's when I woke up.

Now, according the my favorite on-line dream dictionary -
Snake:
To see a snake or be bitten by one in your dream, signifies hidden fears and worries that are threatening you. Your dream may be alerting you to something in your waking life that you are not aware of or that has not yet surfaced. The snake may also be seen as phallic and thus symbolize dangerous and forbidden sexuality. The snake may also refer to a person around you who is callous, ruthless, and can't be trusted. As a positive symbol, snakes represent transformation, knowledge and wisdom. It is indicative of self-renewal and positive changes.

Oh, and the Pastor got me the swan necklace from Swarovski.

happy anniversary

We've made it two whole years.

In the world of divorce/remarriage/step-children, that should be like your freakin' silver anniversary or something.

two years, and all children are still alive

see how much I like cake

So much so that I will get my own cake, veil or no veil, thank you very much.

It was good cake. (Still have a slice in my fridge.)

Oh, I've already ordered my b-day cake, btw. If it wasn't for cake and presents, I probably wouldn't even have a birthday. I order a red velvet cake with buttercream icing. The lady at the bakery said whatmessagewouldyoulikeonthecake? To which I replied NO MESSAGE! That leaves less room for icing flowers!

should coulda coma

Today is our anniversary. Two years. Can you believe I have blather blah-blahed on this thing for two years now?

Pillow talk, last night. Technically this morning, 6 a.m., when the Pastor climbed into bed after another looooooong night of bible scholar work (Personally, I don't know how he does it. All that deuteronical history would put me right to sleep. In fact, I am yawning just typing about it.):

The Pastor: By they way, you snore.

Me:

The Pastor, being Pastoral: Oh, you know, X Person is in a medically induced coma.

Me: I snore? How do I snore? Is it a cute snore?

The Pastor: Now there's something you can blog about. I'm trying to tell you about someone in a coma, and you are all concerned about how you snore.

*****

I only have one regret about marrying the Pastor. I should have worn another dress. Fabulous Friend, you were right. I could have borrowed your dress, but I was probably too fat.

OK, so regret #2 is that I didn't join Weight Watchers right as soon as the Pastor proposed. We got married three weeks after he proposed, but I probably could have dropped five pounds.

Oh, one more regret, the beautiful coral dress I returned after the Pastor and I decided we couldn't elope. We talked about it, and I got a dress (a really great dress), but apparently when you are a Pastor some church people might frown upon you running off and getting hitched. You have to tell people in advance. Not to mention stuff like that can really freak the kids out.

I shoulda kept that dress though.

a moment on the lips

In case you're wondering, on my birthday, I'm going to be 32.

As far as numbers are concerned, I've decided to start using my bra size instead of my age. Obviously, my bra size is a smaller number, and if the past is any indication of the future, it's not likely to change. Plus, this would be the only circumstance for which I would actually use my bust number with pride.

Nate suggested I use my waist - 26. He's such a good kid.

And if you thought I was going to tell you the hip circumference, well, you're about as likely to find that out as I am to get a job at Hooter's.

politics, anyone?

I know I'm not one to talk about political things on this blog, but we have an important election coming up and I can't keep my mouth shut.

Dad is up for President of the Gun Club.

Yes, that's right, the pacifist Pastor's father-in-law regularly shoots at things. Which is one of the reasons I have a conceal-carry permit, but that is a whole other story.

And the most exciting thing is, if Dad wins, then Mom gets to be First Lady of the Gun Club. And I'd be the President's daughter.

So Vote for Larry!

what not to wear, but what to blog

Greetings from Tulsa, OK. The Pastor is working, and I am in a hotel room, on a king-size bed, blissfully child-free. I have already utilized the hotel fitness center and the room's very large jacuzzi tub. Plus, I had mexican food and a cupcake today. That's what I call a good freakin' day!

things I really really like right now
1. Giving the Pastor personal space so he can finish his important scholarly research about Kings and Judges and Samuel and violence. Blah blah blah. Whatever. Translation: spending lots of time walking around the mall.
2. Very strange book by Amy Sedaris - I Like You. I know I am supposed to underline book titles, but I can't figure out how to underline in blogger. Please don't count off any points for poor grammar.
3. Top Pot donuts, new at my Starbucks.
4. A few days ago, I was really liking cookies from the German bakery, but I liked too many of them as evidenced at my Weight Watchers weekly weigh-in.
5. Cupcakes. If I had to pick a last meal, it would be donuts, cupcakes, cookies and mexican food.
6. Watching "What Not to Wear" - cable television!

things I haven't been liking so much
1. The stupid person at Kinko's, who told me that by making a color copy of the freakin' art certificate my son received from the State Department of Education that I was making an illegal copy, violating copyright laws. To anyone from the State Department of Education who cares, I am sorry and I throw myself at your mercy. But if you arrest me, then how will I get Nate to school?
2. All that personal space the Pastor is needing for his important scholarly work.
3. There are so many step-parenting stories, I wouldn't even know where to begin. I wish they would at least get better at lying if they're not going to stop.
4. The stupid people at the tag agency. People were genuinely surprised they need their insurance verification to get their car tags. I was the only person in the place who actually had their insurance verification.

Tomorrow, while the Pastor works, I will have to spend the day at the mall. It's a rough life.

Oh my friend would be so happy. They just showed a dress I actually own on "What Not to Wear" - I think they filmed at Macy's. I'm so proud of me.

Just a few short weeks left until some of the most important days of the year - Cinco de Mayo and my birthday. My mom was due to have me on Cinco de Mayo, went into labor, but I was born a couple of hours after midnight. Wisely, even then, I knew I wanted an excuse to eat mexican food twice in one week. I know you probably think it's hard for me to be any more self-centered than I already am, but you'd better watch it. On my b-day, I'm worse than usual.

Gotta go. Someone has to jump on this hotel room bed!

Pastoral Message

Dear Pastor,

Just in case you are reading this while you are gone -

1. The Rabbit died.

2. I can't breathe. I thought maybe it would be different this time when I breathed bleach fumes.

3. I've been driving the fuel-inefficient van all week. Haven't driven the Honda once.

4. Not only have I still not cleaned out that red Rubbermaid tote in the garage, I've added more stuff to it.

5. I am not at all concerned about your 20 cent fine at the library. I may just let it ride until the day you come home.

6. I used the credit cards, but you already knew that, didn't you? : )

7. A man held a door open for me today and when I said thank you he said "my pleasure." And believe me, it WAS his pleasure. I look very cute today.

8. Some stuff just isn't the same without you. Like when Mr. Gifted-n-talented was explaining to me about the technology that will allow him to go to Mars, telling me about it while his fly was unzipped.

9, I smell just like cotton candy. At least I think I do, stupid bleach fumes.

10. Well, the bed's a complete mess. I haven't made it. Not even once.

11. I went to the Church of the Jumbotron.

Of course, by "Rabbit" you know I mean the white chocolate one from Godiva. He didn't make it til Easter.

Oh, and unlike your library fine, I very eagerly went to the Post Office to pay the postage due on a parcel. Very excitedly, because I figured it was some sort of anniversary present for me, even though I am such a nice and helpful wife and told you I would take care of that for you. You can imagine my disappointment to learn it was a book about Eichmann, Jerusalem and the Banality of Evil.

I love you and miss you.

a blog dedicated to all the things I love about step-parenting

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the Pastor's idea of fun

See, I did get on a ski lift.

I am only posting this picture because I think my legs look thin in it.

men - such simple creatures

The other night, we had Robyn's famous rotisserie chicken for dinner. You know, the kind they have conveniently prepared for you at the grocery store. Seriously, why would you want to go to the trouble of actually cooking a chicken when the people at the deli have already done it for you, and they only want to charge you $4??? It's genius!

I took the leftover chicken and mixed it with - get this - eggs and mayo. The next day the Pastor had it for lunch on bread and you would have thought I had discovered the cure for cancer or won the lottery or something. Saint Robyn! The man practically bowed at my feet in praise of the chicken salad sandwich.

I think I may have said something to him like IT'S JUST THE LEFTOVER CHICKEN (which I didn't even cook) and MAYO and EGGS (a combination of three things I don't eat). I'm not doing that any more though, if people don't know any better and think it's so fantastic that I managed to assemble somthing like this, and they want to go on and on about how wonderful I am, I'm going to let them.

Just wait til he sees what I do with tuna.

the mountain goat has shin bruises

Back from va-ca.

Someone should tell the Pastor my idea of a vacation doesn't entail a 140-foot vertical ascent on wooden ladders to see an Indian ceremonial cave, which really just looked like your regular sort of cave to me.

"Friends don't let friends teach their friends how to ski"
That's what the sign at the ski resort said. If I had a sign it would say "Don't let the Pastor teach you to ski." I love him dearly, but his style of teaching (shouting HEELS OUT!! HEELS OUT! PUSH YOUR HEELS OUT!) doesn't really work for me. I really enjoyed skiing, but I would have liked to have hired one of those young, handsome private ski instructors to coddle me and speak quietly to me and hold my hands and say things like "make a slice of pizza for me!" Not a husband who just points and laughs when I'm tangled up like a caught fish in the orange nets lining the ski slope.

Up til 2 a.m. packing and cleaning the night before we left. The Pastor had a speaking engagement at a youth conference on the first part of our trip. One night, I let the girls sit somewhere else while he was preaching, and the next day at lunch we received various reports about what the Pastor's children were doing while he was behind the pulpit. And it wasn't listening to the the Pastor. I asked Loretta what her Dad had preached about and she said "uh, uh, uhhhhhh the Bible?"

Finally able to have "vacation" when the speaking engagement was over. Even though two separate destinations meant I had to pack for two separate locations. Suitcases for our church function, and separate suitcases for our ski trip. The ski trip was the part of the vacation where I got to climb on Indian ladders, take a two hour hike wearing rubber flip flops and "ski." Oh, and when I was hiking in flip flops, a lady walked by and said I must be part mountain goat to be able to do that. How does cute footwear and lack of prior knowledge about hiking turn into me being part mountain goat? Changed hotel rooms at the ski resort, which essentially meant I got to re-pack and un-pack everything again. Then I got to come home and do all the laundry.

This afternoon, I went grocery shopping. Based on this book I just read, America's Cheapest Family, I decided to start grocery shopping for an entire month at a time. Why I thought this was a good idea to do immediately upon returning from vacation is beyond me. I wore my I-Pod while grocery shopping, which I think makes the whole experience much more pleasant. Drowns out all the noise that permeates from the stupid people. However, three separate people chose to ignore my ear buds and approach me with questions, requiring me to remove my ear buds. One about peanut butter, one about bread and one about applesauce. Sure, let me remove my ear buds to help you with your shopping.

Nathan got car sick and threw up six times on the way home, yet this was still the best trip we've ever taken with the kids. Coincidentally, it was the first family vacation I didn't get my period on.

The Pastor wants me to note the kids did learn how to ski from him.

phase one complete

We made it from Abilene to Angel Fire.

I did not care for Abilene.

Update.

Now I can add "Cheese Fries" from the Outback in Abilene, Texas to my list below.

I am definitely starting to pick through and look at my food FIRST.

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places where I have found hair (not belonging to me) over the course of the past six months where I did not care to have it:

-my hashbrowns
-hot cocoa mix
-package of frozen broccoli
-my salad at a fancy Italian restaurant
-my coffee at Starbucks
-my donut at Starbucks
-in my food at a Korean restaurant, on two separate occassions

I just THOUGHT I was bored.

Then I came to Abilene, Texas.

Now I'm really bored.

Nevermind that I stayed up til two packing EVERYTHING, loading the van and cleaning the house. The only thing the Pastor said to me about packing was "why did you hang these shirts, you should have just folded them."

The Pastor is speaking here at some Nazarenepalooza thing.

The good news is the hotel is in the same parking lot as a Target. Bad news is that it's not one of those Targets that cleverly houses a Starbucks.

walk by my house - I'll toss cheesecake at you

I have finally found my inspiration again. It's amazing how I can find stuff to blog about when I am supposed to be working on our income taxes.

I love living this close to the university. Our dining room faces the street, and college students walk by all the time. When I am at the dining room table, and students walk by, I run outside and offer them random things to eat. Thankfully! I've gotten rid of cheesecake and apple pie that way!

Speaking of cheesecake, just so you know, I am not the only spoiled person in this house. The Pastor decided he liked the cheesecake at On the Border, and sent me to the restaurant supply store to pick some up for him. Seventy dollars later, and I had two giant cheesecakes. We have managed to get rid of one, with me shouting out the front door at random college students.

And speaking of too much cheesecake, there's a biker guy who's been coming to my Weight Watchers meeting. A Harley-riding, black leather, long beard, no-helmet-wearing kind of guy. I think its funny because I just picture big tough biker guy measurig out his portions, counting his points and eating things like 100 calorie cupcakes.

Gotta go. Taxes and packing. Leaving Thursday for Abilene, Texas. If we survive that, then it's on to Angel Fire, New Mexico. Then if we survive that, Santa Fe.

I'm bored.

Cereal Killer

I know I am being a big baby about this, but when has that ever stopped me?

Saturday the Pastor came to me and stated he desired to take us out to a restaurant Saturday night. We normally go out, and had gone out on Friday night, and I had planned to cook that night, but hey – twist my arm.

The prospect of going out that night got me very excited. That and the fact I was writing a paper on the Romantic Period in British Literature and I desired a distraction, so I fixated on daydreaming about my special date with the Pastor (and the girls).

I put on my new Barbie makeup.

I flipped out my hair with my flat iron.

I spent considerable time and effort getting fixed up.

Later that day, the Pastor and I started that conversation, you know the one that goes something like this: “where do YOU want to go eat.” Only this is when the Pastor tells me we are still going out but he is not hungry and he is probably not going to eat. What? It's our special dinner!

At this point I could sense things were unraveling, so I went against my earlier instinct to wear my new, fancy black dress. I did, however, put on dressy jeans, heels and my fuschia satin trenchcoat.

We ended up going to Moe’s, which was really fine with me, except when we got there the Pastor and the girls promptly abandoned me in the burrito line to order the food while they went and sat down in a booth. Still ok at this point, I’d rather not wait in a lengthy line with kids if I don’t have to. But then, I had to pay for my own special date dinner. Not ok. And the Pastor ate, but I’m not supposed hold him accountable for eating when he said he wasn’t going to, because apparently Moe’s has good fish tacos.

That bothered me. It was just like the other night when the Pastor said he wanted to take me out for my beloved $7 ice cream, but then I paid for it. I know all of our money comes from the same place (him) and goes in the same pot (my purse), but there is a different connotation when I have to pull money out to pay for certain things. Plus, at the end of the month when I’m over budget, well we’d better not go there. The trip to Moe’s and the $7 ice cream isn’t going to be the thing that makes me go over budget, now Is it? (Barbie makeup) But it’s the principle of the thing.

Moving on.

14 cups of cereal

Friday night we went grocery shopping, which doesn’t sound like fun, but it was at Super Target so it was. We (The Pastor) allowed the girls to each choose a box of cereal. That was FRIDAY night. Fast-forward to SUNDAY. That means the girls had the opportunity to eat the cereal for breakfast Saturday and Sunday morning.

Each box of cereal originally contained 10 cups of cereal. When I picked up one of the boxes off the counter Sunday morning, it was amazingly light. Further investigation revealed large quantities of cereal missing.

For various reasons, we have been working with the girls on their eating habits, doing things like trying to set a good example (except when I am eating 4 pieces of cake at a wedding), exercising and encouraging healthy lifestyles. We have talked to them about what is a serving size and had taught them for breakfast to measure out a cup of cereal and half a cup of milk amd that is your serving of milk and cereal and your breakfast. Voila!

Silly me. When I would see the cereal bowls and the measuring cups in the sink, it would make me happy. Kids are doing what they are supposed to be doing!

Well apparently, Loretta had decided she no longer liked using the measuring cup. I’m not sure what the other one’s excuse was. Someone had used the measuring cup because it was in the sink.

And out of the two boxes of cereal, exactly 14 cups of cereal were missing. Which means between the two girls, each had consumed 7 cups of cereal over a two-day span. And the worst part, is that before we even knew how much cereal she had eaten, Loretta had been lamenting about her starvation to the Pastor (who hadn't even eaten breakfast that day), wondering when we would be going out to dinner. AND WE HAD TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THIS ON THE SABBATH.

There is no day of rest in parenting.

yes, I bought it

http://www.maccosmetics.com/templates/collections/collection.tmpl?CATEGORY_ID=CATEGORY20395

hair hair everywhere

places where I have found hair (not belonging to me) over the course of the past six months where I did not care to have it:

-my hashbrowns
-hot cocoa mix
-package of frozen broccoli
-my salad at a fancy Italian restaurant
-my coffee at Starbucks
-my donut at Starbucks
-in my food at a Korean restaurant, on two separate occassions

And my beloved whipped peanut butter, the only peanut butter I have ever loved in my entire life, has salmonella! What is this world coming to?

Valentine's Ball, II

Valentine's Ball

my valentine

This was the same day as the Valentine's Ball. This would technically be the "before" picture - before the hair up-do and the make-up. I thought I liked this shirt. Cute, sporty shirt with random numbers on it! Then I realized the numbers aren't so random - it's the number I will be on my next birthday.

No grand prize for me and THE PASTOR, but he's still my Dr. McDreamy

The Pastor and I went to an event last night. The Pastor and I were part of the entertainment at the event. The Pastor and I were contestants on a rendition of "The Newlywed Game." The Pastor got the incorrect answer to the following question:

What is your wife's nick-name for you?

Uhhhhhh, let's see. Could it be THE PASTOR???????

Actually, I have two nick-names for him. Professor Hot T. McHotstuff and THE PASTOR. The Pastor being the most popular of the two, hence over 500 blog entries about THE PASTOR on the I MARRIED THE PASTOR blog. Does he not read this thing?

His guess was "My Lord." I think he just wanted to get a reaction from the crowd with that one.

I do call him that sometimes. But only on very special occasions.

We came in 4th place, out of four couples.

6 weeks of ugly

only to find out I am NOT a candidate for laser eye surgery.

The good news? All that money we set aside in our Section 125 medical spending account! Yippee!!! Hmmm, wonder what kind of plastic surgery I can have instead?

Or perhaps this is a divine message that I should have a baby instead?

for deposit only

"Meaningless, said the teacher. It's all meaningless."

The Pastor thinks it is completely stupid for me to be making a Valentine box. He said it is dumb and pointless. Where else are people going to put my Valentine's? I told him it is no more meaningless than his doctoral dissertation on the violent patterns of kingship in ancient Israel.

We are in bed. The Pastor is reading some biblical commentary on Hosea and Micah. I didn’t even know those were books of the Bible. He is reading his book by the light of his rechargeable flashlight.

Things the Pastor has ruined me on, forever:

1. I used to be a very careful shopper. Once I purchased something, it was a permanent decision. Now, since marrying the Pastor, I know that everything is returnable! It’s easier to buy the whole store and take it back later than to agonize over purchasing decisions.

2. I used to think I was too good to shop at Goodwill.

3. Eating past 5 p.m.

4. We went to a restaurant today, and I really wanted nachos (cholesterol alert!), but now I am so cheap I got the special – a one-topping pizza (cholesterol!), which was priced $3 less than the nachos.

5. Showering alone.

6. I used to think I could only drive a brand-new vehicle. Now I know the beauty of being able to park anywhere, because I don’t care if anything should happen to a car that is dented on every single panel.

7. Waking up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready to go to work.

8. The big, fancy church, with the coffee bar conveniently located in the lobby. (Actually, I do kind of miss that.)

9. Reading the Bible. Now I know that is for expert Bible Scholars only! No amateurs allowed!

10. Having a pristine oven. I lived in my condo for nearly two years, and Nate was the only one who ever cooked anything, and his cuisine usually amounted to pancakes and scrambled eggs.

Thing I have ruined the Pastor on, forever:

The only thing he could come up with is he used to never order desserts in a restaurant. Now, he knows we are ordering the $7 piece of cake.

Oh what a difference I have made in his life.

 
This is the Pastor. I've hacked into my wife's account.

As I came home today, she was simply backing out of the driveway.

Simply . . . backing . . .

straight out of the driveway.

Notice her tire tracks from this simple procedure . . . and next time she is on the road, be afraid, be very, very afraid.